Dad takes her wrist and slides an arm around Mom’s back. “I know. I hate that she was here too.”
Mom recoils from Dad’s touch and steps closer to me. “Just explain it to me. Why were you here?”
“I… I…” My eyes dart between my parents. “I wanted some time alone.”
Mom huffs, throwing her hands into the air. “And that’s it? You were alone?”
Dad’s tone lowers. “Why are you attacking her like she had something to do with this?”
“Because she knows I…”
“No,” Mom snaps, cutting me off. “I don’t know anything about this assault on our home. That’s why I’m asking for answers.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Ashworth,” Murphy says, entering the room with Sheriff Lennon. “The sheriff would like a word.”
Mom and Dad pace to meet the sheriff. I fall behind to keep within earshot. Ash moves away from the rear wall, his interest piqued.
“I wanted to let you know we’ve questioned the main players at The Scorpion Clubhouse,” Sheriff Lennon says. “The ringleader, Lance Malone, has an alibi. He was tending bar today and submitted security footage to prove it.”
“That means he sent people to work for him,” Dad responds. “Wasn’t that how his father operated?”
“And it took us a long time to get Vic Malone on any charges. He still hasn’t seen his day in court.”
Dad huffs. “So what does this mean, Sheriff?”
“We’ve hit a dead end.”
“Dead end?” Dad’s brow deeply furrows. “My staff saw their club jackets. It was them.”
“Right now, we suspect it wasn’t the Scorpion Motorcycle Club behind this,” Sheriff Lennon explains. “We think the culprits wore knock-off jackets as a cover.”
I try my best to keep my expression blank. I know it was The Scorpions because Dax was with them. But I can’t say anything. My heart won’t let me rat out Dax.
Mom laughs nervously, a hand hovering by her mouth. “No, that can’t be. It’s too ludicrous.”
“With all the main players accounted for, we are widening our scope,” Sheriff Lennon explains.
“They can’t just get away with this,” Dad demands. “They must have organized someone to do the dirty work for them. Surely all those Logan’s Point low-lives know each other.”
“We are still investigating their network,” Sheriff Lennon asserts. “Some lower-level players haven’t been accounted for, but they’re usually not linked to the crime aspect of the motorcycle club.”
Mom scoffs. “Isn’t their whole club just a front for crime?”
“I’ll personally interview more people of interest, Mrs. Ashworth,” Sheriff Lennon replies. “For instance, I don’t have a timeline for Lance Malone’s younger brother. I’ve had dealings with him in the past, and I believe he’ll be helpful to the investigation.”
“Helpful how?” Mom yelps. “By confessing?”
“I know this is distressing,” the sheriff says. “We will do everything in our power to bring your family justice. In the meantime, I’ll organize hourly patrols of your perimeter.”
Dad holds out his hand to the sheriff. “Thank you.”
When Sheriff Lennon shakes Dad’s hand, Mom turns away, smirking. “Patrols will be really helpful when the damage has already been done.”
Dad frowns. “Don’t mind my wife, Sheriff.”
Sheriff Lennon nods. “Not at all. This is quite an ordeal.”
When Murphy walks the sheriff out, Dad turns to me, his eyes lingering for a beat too long.
